The forbidden dreams of nuns tell a truth we will never know about ourselves, the builders of Stonehenge. They are the desires that lurk in a secret place that we all share but never discuss because we have no memory of it on a conscious level. The heart of all dishonesty hides there, where we all go and what is known. We talk about the weather but are thinking of this place, always. Our transgressions are our trespasses to where we did not come from but where we belong, so there we abide at all times but denying that we are there or even that it exists. It is a place of comfort in the dark surrounded by others but all are alone. Only vampires and witches know the way and they are the gatekeepers. They are not us but who we will become. Animals are not welcomed because you must have darkness in you to be allowed there, a willful darkness known only in us. Enlightened humans are not allowed either since the place would have no meaning to them. It is the desire to be unenlightened that creates this place for those lost in their own ambitions and fear of being, or not being loved. It is the manifestation of a collective angst of a damnation imposed on the self. It is our unique and secret legacy to the universe and we are not even aware of it but on a primitive level. The artificiality of day to day life keeps that secret so far from us that it may as well be from a previous unremembered life. The diversions manufactured by ourselves dominate every conscious crevice of our souls. Every generation has the same experience concerning the truth about a reality that is glossed over by a veneer of nonsensical minutiae that locks our minds away with what is called knowledge. We grow up and carry the authority club to beat it into the young through a repetition as constant as the carpenter's hammer. Nail after nail driven into cut boards that fit the puzzle perfectly. The edifice that is the prison of lies grows in mass ever sinking into the muck and mire of nonsense. Lie to the children though you think it truth. Form them in your own image as you were formed. Generations of lies upon lies grow stronger in time so large that the stars of truth were obscured eons ago. Like the great cathedrals sprouting up around shops and houses that will be torn down when the churches are completed, the children know only one reality that is akin to Plato's cave. It is all they know or will ever know and it was formed by their parents, for that was all they knew. So the prison grows and is perpetually repeated again and again until we no longer exist. Only a shadow of what life was persists and that will vanish in darkness when the last flicker of light goes out. That said, the struggle to understand our own existence is persistent and futile. We can understand the journey through history, mythology and archaeology as the destiny remains elusive. It has been a pilgrimage from out of the darkness and into the light wrought with dead ends and misinterpretations. Religions have their roots in this search that have been inspired with an awareness of our own mortality. We want to live despite the suffering life inevitably brings. We want to live without that suffering but perhaps living and suffering are inextricable. To be or not to be, may very well be the ultimate question and just asking it also answers it. To suffer or not to suffer makes the question more difficult to answer. Love itself might very well be the answer for love is that dichotomy of pleasure and pain. So the answer has been there all along but we have chosen the building of monuments to externalize the answer in a material way in search of something spiritual with a resulting confusion that frustrates and keeps the answer just out of reach enough to manifest the opposite side of the coin, hatred.

By Buckspinster

From: United States

Website: https://buckspinster.wordpress.com/